Destructive Tendencies
by TheArtDisarray
Summary: Draco is Marked and the Dark Lord gives him orders to capture Harry and bring him to a safe house. What happens when the plan is botched and the safe house they arrive at is hosted by a traitorous Death Eater? Set in sixth year, AU of HBP. SLASH DM/HP
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I do not own the Harry Potter characters, and am making no money from this work.

Warnings: Mature language and content, gore and **slash**__in later chapters, which means a male/male pairing.

Chapter One: Unexpected Easter Guests

Draco Malfoy tapped a slender finger against the rim of his polished silver goblet, the only sign of stress he would allow himself to show in front of his father. Lucius sat across from him, grey eyes pinning him down where he sat, waiting for a reply.

"So if I am understanding this correctly, Father-" he started, only to be cut off by the older man.

"As I would hope any son I raised could," Lucius said with a cool voice, before gesturing with his hand for Draco to continue.

Draco paused, choosing to ignore his father's snide comment. "The Dark Lord has suggested that I, somehow, figure out a way to kidnap Harry Potter, transport him to a safe house, and await the next orders?" He was bordering sarcasm while raising a thin blonde eyebrow, taking as big of a risk as he could while questioning Lucius Malfoy's orders.

"Yes, my son, if you wish to phrase it so _crudely._" Lucius' voice raised slightly, and he folded his hands in his lap, his eyes drifting towards the parlor. "It's not an option, Draco. We have family honor to uphold. You received the Mark last winter, this is your duty now." The blonde man seemed to have regained his ground, and continued in a much softer voice, eyes once again trained on his son. "I'd hate for it to be necessary to inform Narcissa that she was correct when she judged you too weak for this position," he murmured, words slicing through Draco like a frozen blade. Almost half a minute passed before Draco felt he could trust himself to answer.

"Father," he finally said, willing his tone of voice not to express his rage. "I am not too weak for this. I will accept these orders and carry them out, _successfully_," he said through gritted teeth, his hand gripping the goblet much too hard. "I need to be briefed on the specifics of this mission. I can't blindly run into Hogwarts and expect to be able to capture the most guarded person in the school."

Lucius merely blinked, his face resembling stone, the product of decades of practice. "The Dark Lord will arrive sometime in the next 48 hours. I'm sure he will tell you exactly how this is to be carried out." He stood, and gave his son one last icy stare. "Do not disappoint me, Draco," his tone final and barely louder than a whisper, before turning and walking out into the parlor, his robes billowing behind him.

Draco let out a soft sigh and relaxed his grip. Of course he was prepared for this, he'd had years to be instructed on what role he would eventually take. But now was that time, he was finally playing that role. He should be happy, proud, content. Instead, he felt uneasy, unsure of what he was supposed to do next.

_Wait to meet the Dark Lord again, I suppose._ He placed the goblet on one of the beautiful oak tables they had in the parlor. He began to walk the long carpeted path to his quarters, so he could sit in silence, and think.

He strode past the portrait of Abraxas Malfoy, a very stern looking older man, his grandfather. The man who had raised Lucius to be what he is now. He had long golden hair, streaked with light grey, much like the rest of the Malfoy family in old age. However, unlike the rest of the family, instead of grey, he had piercing deep blue eyes, which reminded Draco of a strike of lightning hitting the ocean. His grandfather gave him a small nod, really the only acknowledgement anyone could entice from the man, as Draco passed him into his room.

His bedroom was decorated in dark blue and silver, colours that had soothed Draco since he was a child. It smelled faintly of roses; the gardens lay only a few meters from his windows, and the floral scent was especially strong in Spring. Draco made his way over to his favorite armchair, a very aged piece of furniture, but he felt it was more comfortable than any others he had tried in the Manor.

_Capturing Harry Potter? _He thought to himself. _How hard could that really be? The boy is bloody idiot, certainly no challenge for a Malfoy. I'm curious as to how I will be able to do this. _He tapped his fingers on the side of his chair, staring into the garden, lost in thought. The sun had already set and the sky was almost pure black, there was no moon tonight, and he could barely make out the silhouettes of rose bushes.

_I suppose I'll need sleep if I could possibly be facing the Dark Lord tomorrow._

A House Elf apparated into his bedroom with a loud pop. Draco sat up in his bed immediately, eyes scanning the room. It was still very dark, which meant he couldn't have been asleep more than an hour or two.

"What is it, Rimi?" he asked hurriedly. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer the little Elf would give him.

"Master Draco is to be dressed and in the sitting room within five minutes," he squeaked. "Master Lucius says he is to hurry." Rimi bowed and Disapparated. Draco cursed under his breath; he was _sure _the Dark Lord wouldn't show up until at least tomorrow night.

He combed through his disshelved hair as fast as he could, and threw on his finest robes - this situation would not call for his Death Eater robes - and walked briskly out of his room towards the sitting room, his face as composed as possible. He felt a coil of nervousness unfold in his stomach, and swallowed loudly before opening the door between him and the Dark Lord.

As soon as he entered, he heard the cold, high voice address him. _"Kneel."_

Draco dropped to his knees, his blonde hair falling in front of his face. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the anxiety of being so close to the Dark Lord almost overwhelming him.

"Draco Malfoy, son of my loyal servant, Lucius Malfoy," he hissed, and Draco could feel him striding over to where he knelt, heart quickening with every step he heard. "I have decided to bestow you with the biggest honor my Death Eaters have seen in the last decade. You will be solely responsible for capturing Harry Potter from Hogwarts when you return from Easter holidays. Severus has been so kind as to brew a potion, which I have with me now. _Rise,_" he ordered, and Draco basically jumped to his face, his eyes fixed somewhere on Voldemort's forehead. He was much too scared to look to man directly in the eyes.

"You need not worry about the _specifics _of this potion, you only need know that when given to Potter, it will incapacitate him long enough for you to move him to a safe house, the location of which you will be informed of in due time." Draco's knees started to weaken, the Dark Lord smelled of decayed flesh, and he was holding back a gag. Voldemort looked amused, then, and took one step closer to Draco. "You will be responsible for making sure he ingests this potion, in a _secluded _place, one where you will not have any witnesses." He bared his lips, showing mangled teeth, and spoke in a low voice. "Are there any questions that you have?"

Draco swallowed thickly, unsure if he could find his voice to reply. "Master," he said softly, barely able to force the word out. "What are my orders after we get to the safe house?"

Voldemort laughed, a high pitched and horrible noise, which made Draco freeze to the spot, terrified beyond measure. "That will be made clear to you once you've reached that point." He snapped his fingers once, and turned swiftly away from Draco to face his father. "Lucius, I must speak with you _privately._"

Lucius turned to Draco, voice like a whip. "To your rooms, now. The potion will be packed with your belongings."

Draco bowed and hurried out of the sitting room, his breath coming in short gasps. He would never get used to being around Voldemort, and had no idea how his father did it. He took no time in getting back to his room, collapsing on the sheets of his bed.

His heart was beating erratically, and no matter how he tried to calm down, he couldn't get himself to relax. He would be on his way back to Hogwarts the day after tomorrow, and shortly after that he would have to create a plan to capture the bloody Savior of the Wizarding World.

He closed his eyes, and took in a deep, ragged breath. This was not what he had in mind when he took the Dark Mark.

**A/N: What do you guys think? Continue? Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter felt he had less than a decent summer.

After Sirius died, he was taken to his relatives for a few weeks. While better than most summers on the surface - the Durselys had taken to ignoring him again, and occasionally shoving food under his door - it was one of the worst for Harry. Caught up in his sorrow over losing Sirius, and feeling solely responsible, he was left to wallow in his own guilt and remorse. His clothes hung from him limply, and he looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

Finally, some members of the Order fetched him in the middle of the night, whispering to him in hushed voices that he had another option than the spare bedroom at the Dursley's, which was going to stay at Grimmauld Place for the remainder of the summer.

He took the opportunity with little thought; after all, he hated staying with his aunt and uncle, and being at Grimmauld Place might make him feel.. closer to Sirius, he supposed.

So he hopped on the back of Moody's broom, Disillusionment Charm sliding down his back like a raw egg, his emotions inside as cold as the charm felt to his skin. He mumbled appropriate answers when questioned, but otherwise he stayed silent, rigidly speaking when spoken to. It was enough to convince most to leave him alone. Even Remus, who had gently pestered him the last few weeks with softly spoken words and sad eyes, had left him alone this last week.

He had written Hermione and Ron to let them know he would be helping the Order with important business over the summer, and would not be able to speak with them. It was a flat out lie, but he needed to _think_, to be alone, away from the noise of everyone else.

He already imagined his friends' responses if he tried to confide in them. Hermione would question and Ron would do his best to be sympathetic. This would only serve to irritate Harry, and with the emotional state he was in, he didn't think he could trust himself to be civil with them.

So he isolated, kept his distance from everyone whenever possible, brooding on the life of a man who had so much _potential_ to become family. When Sirius died, it was not just the soul of his godfather that was lost to Harry - it was the promise of something better, the idea that maybe life could change.

He feared he had lost the last hope he had left.

Harry stumbled out of the musty bedroom in Grimmauld Place, preparing to find Kreacher to ask the elf to cook him some breakfast before he left for Hogwarts. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway when he heard heated whispers coming from the vicinity of the kitchen. He leaned forward just a bit to try to make out what was being said.

"_Surely_, you can't mean to tell him that!" A very familiar woman's voice hissed into the hallway.

"_Surely, _I can and I will! The boy has been kept in the dark far too long, Molly, this coddling has to stop!" That deep, rugged voice definitely belonged to Moody, and Harry held his breath.

"Alastor.. I think.." Molly's voice sunk down so low that Harry was unable to make out words anymore, and he took a step forward to try to hear better. The kitchen went completely silent, and a second later, Moody stepped into the hallway, both his regular and magical eye fixed on Harry. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Good to see you awake. We have to leave for the station soon," Moody said in a gruff voice before striding to the front door. "I'll be back in 30 minutes. Have everything packed and ready to go, Potter." He slammed the door behind him, which made Harry jump slightly. Before he could even ponder over what they were talking about, Molly took the opportunity to guide him into the kitchen where she was cooking breakfast. It smelled wonderful, and Harry did miss Mrs. Weasley's cooking, but he was in hopes he would have some peace to himself before he had to go to school, where people would most certainly never leave him alone.

"Harry dear, sit down, breakfast is almost finished," Molly said in a cheerful voice, one that was only this side of false. "You'll need all the energy you can get for the train ride."

Harry only nodded and sat down at the small rickety table in the middle of the kitchen. Even in the early morning sun, the house was dim and depressing, feeling more like a dreary, rainy evening. Molly hummed to herself as she finished the eggs, the distress apparently gone from the conversation she had with Moody only moments ago. Harry wondered to himself how long it would take one to perfect something like that.

She set his plate down in front of him, smiling that motherly smile again, the one that made Harry feel very uncomfortable. He averted his gaze, instead looking at the massive proportions of food on his plate. He didn't think three people could eat this much, let alone one malnourished boy that had been surviving on a bowl of soup once every few days for the entire summer.

He did his best to work up a small smile, which seemed to placate Molly for the time being. He couldn't afford to let her see him in a state that would cause her to ask questions - Harry felt like he wouldn't be able to contain his emotions if she prodded too hard, which she was wont to do when she felt that someone she cared for was hurting.

He appreciated her caring for him, he really did - he would just rather be alone. It almost felt like the only person he had left to rely on was himself, and that left a sinking feeling in his gut. He shook the thoughts away and took a small bite of sausage, the food tasting bland and greasy in his mouth.

Molly seemed unsure of what to say now, so she quickly cleaned the pots and pans and turned to Harry. "Well, dear, I'm going to need to make sure everyone at home is ready to go. Who knows what will happen when you leave that lot to fend for themselves." Her voice held just a small bit of awkwardness, and Harry merely nodded again, giving her a small wave goodbye. Molly's smile looked strained as she walked out of the kitchen to the floo in the livingroom. Harry merely breathed a sigh of relief as he was alone again, vanishing the plate of food from the table that he had only taken a few bites from.

He had been lost in thought in the dim, musty kitchen when he heard the front door open and the sound of people walking into the entrance hall. Someone shut the door too loudly, and the shrieks of Mrs. Black's portrait went ringing through the house. Harry sighed and rose to his feet, dutifully marching into the hallway to meet five members from the Order. Alastor was there, as was Tonks, Kingsley, Remus, and a short, older man Harry didn't recognize. Tonks smiled at Harry behind thick, curly black hair before shrinking his belongings and marching back out the door. Moody wasted no time and moved forward to put him under the Disillusionment Charm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus give him a pitying expression, and he fought hard not to lash out at the werewolf. He knew Remus was just worried about him, but people were starting to make him violent as of late.

The broom ride to Platform 9 3/4 was uneventful, and very brisk for the beginning of September. When they arrived at the station, Harry walked through the barrier with little goodbye, only softly thanking them for taking him there. Tonks and Remus seemed especially put out by his response, but said nothing as he went through to the Hogwarts Express. Thankfully, the Weasleys had yet to arrive, and he couldn't see the mane of bushy brown hair that belonged to Hermione. He hoped by some luck that he might just be able to escape them and find an empty corridor where he could sit peacefully.

He got on the train, ignoring everyone except Neville, who had asked how his summer was. Harry only responded out of a sense of obligation. Neville had always been good to him, and he would feel too guilty snubbing the boy. He politely said it had been fine, gave him a small smile, and quickly walked to the back of the train without a backwards glance. He was starting to feel very anxious, and the quicker he could find some solitude, the better.

He was in luck, there was an open compartment at the very back, and he slid into it with relief, closing the door securely behind him. He was sure his friends would seek him out eventually, but at least this would give him a little time. He sat down, putting his head in his hands and blocking out the sounds from the train.

He barely noticed a few minutes later when the door slid open quietly, and someone took a few soft steps to sit down across from him. Harry finally opened his eyes a bit later, and jumped wildly when he realized he was not alone.

A set of cool, grey eyes bore into his. Malfoy lifted one pale eyebrow at him and smirked. "Hello, Potter."


End file.
